What's the Deal With Zombies?
by thesemimaster
Summary: Jerry and the gang struggle to survive the zombie apocalypse. Rated T for mild language and violence.


What's the Deal with Zombies

I don't own any of these characters. Seinfeld was created by Larry David and Jerry Seinfeld.

Jerry sat on his couch, eagerly keeping an eye on his television. His knuckles were white as he anxiously gripped his knees. He let out a shrill cry as he heard a loud noise from behind him.

"Ah, don't get me, I'm just a comedian!" he screamed, diving into the floor several feet away.

"Sorry," George said, standing in the bathroom door. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"We're in the middle of a zombie apocalypse," Jerry cried, getting up. "Of course I'm going to be jumpy. What's the problem?"

"It's the toilet paper!" George cried, walking into the room. "I just can't do it with just three sheets. It takes more to do the job."

"Well, it's gonna have to do," Jerry yelled. "We're looking at a time when toilet paper isn't going to be made anymore."

George sat down on the couch. "If there's a time when there's no more toilet paper, maybe it's best we do go extinct."

Jerry sat down beside him. "I'm happy to see you with the proper priorities in mind."

"Shut up," George said, dismissively. "What the latest?"

"Pretty much the same." Jerry grabbed the remote and turned the volume down. "The city's a mess. They just showed the Garden being overrun. The last thing they said was to try to get out of the city, if you can."

George scoffed. "If." He glanced at the remote. "You know, we might ought to save those batteries. You never know, you know."

Jerry looked at George strangely. "How about you conserve batteries and I'll work on the TP? That way we come out even."

"Fine."

"Are you really bickering at a time like this?" a voice said. This time both of them jumped. They scrambled around to see Elaine standing behind them holding her head.

"Are you feeling better?" Jerry asked, scooting over and motioning for her to sit.

"I guess," she said, sitting. "I feel like I could have used more sleep though."

"Sorry, we shouldn't have woke you up," Jerry said.

"That okay," Elaine said, starring blankly at the TV. "I just can't believe he's gone. I mean, we were about to break up again, but still, it's not easy someone you've dated as a zombie."

"Don't worry, you're behaving normal," Jerry said.

"You know, Puddy didn't really act all that different," George pointed out. "I mean, it took me a couple moments to see the missing arm."

'Not the time,' Jerry mouthed as Elaine just starred forward.

All three jumped as the door banged open. "Kramer, be a little more sensitive to the situation!" Elaine yelled as the three huddled behind the couch.

"Sorry, sorry," Kramer muttered, dropping a heavy box onto the counter. "It's like a jungle out there with the zombies and the riots and the soldiers. It's madness." Kramer made a wild gesture with his hand.

Jerry stood up and walked over to counter. "Well, it is the end of the world. It sounds about right." He looked down into the box. After a moment he looked away, then back into the box.

"Nice haul, eh, Jerry," Kramer said, looking proud of himself.

"Pringles," Jerry said, reaching into the box and pulling out a can of chips. "How could you pick up a whole box of pringles? Don't you know that we're going to be surviving off this for a while?"

"Sorry, Jerry," Kramer said, acting hurt. "It was just sitting there in the back of a truck, so I just took it. There were tons of zombies nearby, so I did the safe thing."

"I can't believe this," Jerry said, throwing up his hands. "We are all going to die."

George picked up one of the tubes. "Well, there is worse food to be stuck with." He opened it and ate a couple. "Yeah, this isn't that bad."

"Come on Jerry," Kramer said. "We can't afford to be picky. We all know that the stores have already been cleaned out. It's fruitless to go there."

"Yeah, okay," Jerry said. "But we're going to have to be careful with this. Just because we have a lot doesn't mean that we can eat it at once." Jerry took George's chips and threw them inside the box. "That goes double for you two."

"Fair enough," George said, leaning against the counter. "You're right. We need someone to take inventory of the food and keep a schedule to ration it out by. I volunteer for the job."

Jerry gave George a knowing stare. "I don't think so. I'll keep up with it myself," he said, taking the box into the backroom. "On that note, do you have much food in your apartment, Kramer?"

"Just forty jars of mayo," he said.

"Forty jars of mayonnaise!" Jerry cried. "What exactly were you planning on doing with that much?"

"You never know," Kramer said. "They had a buy one, get one sale, so I had no choice to stock up. I'm saving money in the long run."

"Yes, if you don't die of cardiac arrest," Jerry said. "Though that does explain why the only thing in the fridge that hasn't been touched is the mayo."

"We could still use it," George pointed out. "You never know, you know."

"Yes, there's nothing that could help us get away from zombies than eating the most fattening foods there are."

"Hey, guys, look on TV," Elaine said, motioning for them to be quiet.

"Oh, no," Jerry said, after a couple minutes. "That's just on the next block. They're moving this way."

"I just realized that this really isn't a very well fortified place," George pointed out, looking around the apartment. "We're kinda trapped here."

They all just looked around at each other. "Damn it!" Jerry yelled. "Why didn't you point that out sooner?"

"Sorry, it just hit me," George said. "Why didn't you think of it?"

"Because I'm not used to this type of pressure. Oh, man, oh, man, We're all going to die. We're going to die so bad," Jerry kept repeating to himself.

Kramer stood up and slapped Jerry in the face. "Pull yourself together man! We're all in this together. Our leader can't be freaking out like that."

"Leader! You guys think I'm the leader?"

They all looked at each other, then nodded in unison.

"But I don't want to be the leader!"

"Who exactly here are you willing to trust?" George asked. "You think I'm the right one for the job?"

Jerry thought for a moment. "Yeah, you're right there. What about you, Elaine?"

"Nope, not interested," she said, shaking her head. "I'll just let you know when you do something wrong."

"Well what about-" Jerry started, looking at Kramer, who flashed a big smile. "Alright, I'll do it, but let's set up some ground rules. What I say goes, alright?"

The others shrugged and nodded their heads.

"Also, don't expect much. I still expect us to die horribly."

"Hey, you don't have to tell me," George said. "I expected something grisly even before any of this zombie mess."

"First off, let's start getting this place secured," Jerry said. "Kramer, go to your apartment and get everything that's wood and bring it here. Tables, chairs, that end table you borrowed a few years ago. Anything we can put a nail through."

"Aye aye, Cap," Kramer said, quickly making his way out of the apartment.

"George, start gathering all the stuff up for first aid and hygiene. We don't know when we'll need it quick."

"On it," George said. He walked to one of the kitchen counters and took out a couple plastic bags. "You know my expertise falls into the bathroom." He took the bag into the bathroom to gather the supplies."

"You know this is an attractive side of you," Elaine said. "All take charge and all."

"Well, I'm not feeling it," Jerry said, walking through the kitchen and looking through several drawers. "Where's the damn hammer and nails?" He kept looking until he shook his head and sighed. "Kramer, bring that hammer and nails back over when you come!" he shouted.

"Yip, yip!" came the reply from across the hall.

"Elaine, keep an eye out the window for any of them," Jerry said. "I'm gonna try to find some weapons we can use."

Elaine stood and strolled over to the window. Looking down at the street below, she grunted. "Hmm, umm Jerry, I'm afraid they're already here."

"What?" he said, struggling to break off a leg from a table.

"They're already flooding the street down below."

Jerry stepped up beside her and looked for himself. All of the blood flushed from his face as he struggled to keep himself conscious. "Oh, no," was all he could mutter.

"What's going on?" George asked, coming up behind them. The bag full of supplies hit the floor as George looked down. "George is getting scared," he said, loudly.

They screamed and grabbed hold of each other as they heard a loud crash behind them. "What!" Kramer cried, propping himself up on the table he just brought in. "This is heavy. I can't just lay it down gentle."

"I don't know how much more of this I can take," Jerry said, glancing back out the window behind him. "Hopefully the door will keep them out for a while."

Jerry gasped as Elaine roughly grabbed hold of him. Turning he saw someone new in the doorframe. "Oh great just what we needed. Hello, Newman."

"Huh," Kramer said, turning towards the door. "Ha ha, hey Newman, glad that you could join us." He clapped his hands and stepped forward. "We could use your help here."

The silence inside the room hung heavy as everyone in the room realized something was wrong except for Kramer.

"Hey, sorry man for not calling you earlier," Kramer said, stepping forward. "You don't have to attack me with the evil eye there."

Newman remained silent.

"Come on, what's wrong?" Kramer asked. "You look pretty sick. Did you have the flu when this crazy thing started? That didn't stop you from eating barbecue though, did it? You got more on your shirt than you did in your mouth."

"Kramer!" Jerry whispered shrilly. "That's not barbecue sauce!"

Kramer looked confused as he studied Newman closely. As Newman began to growl, the realization finally dawned on Kramer. "Ooh, this is gonna be dicy."

To be continued


End file.
